Monday, January 4, 2010

Miss Boobshow, when I asked you to take off your jacket so I could check your blood pressure, I didn't expect you to whip it off so quickly.

Likewise, I'd have appreciated it if you'd told me in advance that you weren't wearing a shirt, bra, or anything else under it. I would have tried it through the sleeve if I'd known.

The older gentleman that was passing in the office hallway on his way to Dr. Pissy's exam room, however, was very grateful for your actions. He just had cataract surgery last month, and is glad it went so well.

A few years ago I went to my regular GP for an annual (read: gyno) exam. I'm 37, so I have some sense of how these things are supposed to go. I was in a gown, on the table, feet in stirrups, speculum in place, with my Trusted Doctor's lubed fingers feeling around exactly where they were supposed to be, just prior to the Pap smear culture being taken. Except the nurse never brought in the tray with the swab, slide, etc. Realizing her mistake, SHE OPENED THE DOOR TO GO GET ONE, putting everything God gave me on display to all and sundry walking by in the hall. It's the only time I've ever heard Trusted Doctor yell. If she's interested, I'm ready to trade places with Ms. Boobshow. Except . . . I don't have any cool tattoos.

I was getting prepped for surgery with the door to the hall wide open. When I complained the response was that only hospital employees were walking up and down that particular hall and not to worry about it. That's not the first time I've had modesty tsk tsked! I swear the next time I'm going to respond that prostitutes are also professionals used to seeing old wrinkled hineys, but I have no intention of flashing them either.

I can't help but think of a line from a poem by Robert Graves: "How naked go the sometime nude!" <--the poem is a fantastic contemplation on the difference between the naked and the nude. Clearly this particular patient doesn't appreciate the subtle difference.

In her defense, though, I must say that if one has been a patient long enough--such that one has been seen naked by health professionals on myriad occasion--it may be that she just doesn't give a rat's ass anymore. At a certain point, a body is just a body, after all. Add a little dementia to the mix and, well, she'll probably appear at her next visit in her birthday suit. <--but at least then you'll be prepared, Dr. G! ;-)

Speaking of weird clothing occurrences at the doctor's office, does anyone know why my PCP seemed disturbed when I wore button-fly Lucky jeans to an appointment? Is there something strange about a woman wearing pants that button? If anyone can enlighten me, I'd appreciate it. :-)

Ahem, anon 1:45, I hate to say anything to cause distrust, and I know the point of your comment was about the nurse's mistake in opening the door, but I just gotta say, your Trusted Doctor's lubed fingers should not have been where you implied they were if the pap smear specimen had not yet been collected. I'm just saying...

as a pharmacy intern, I've seen my fair share of boobage just from little old ladies coming in to get their flu shots. you'd think after twenty years of flu shots they'd know to wear the short-sleeved shirts....

they don't.I think they purposefully try to wear the button-ups that have no arm give so that the whole effing shirt has to come off.

This is Anon 1:45 - thanks for the concern. As I recall Trusted Doc was maybe putting the speculum in or palpating an ovary or something. He did not seem at all delighted to be doing the exam (not grossed out, just not overeager) and has never ever been anything other than totally professional so I'm pretty sure nothing untoward was going on. Maybe the general disorganization of the appointment threw off his game? In any case, it taught me something very important: Shave those legs! Someone might be walking by!

Yeah, I realized what the fly said after the appointment...which, of course, just made the whole thing worse. The jeans were hand-me-downs from a friend, so I hadn't realized this subtle detail beforehand.

The thing is, though, he made the comment *before* I unbuttoned my jeans. So either he's really familiar with the look of the buttons on Lucky's or there's something I don't know about button-fly jeans. What can I say? I was post-op and it was the only pair of pants that fit. <--I did say that to him, to which he replied, "why didn't you just wear sweatpants or something?" Uhh.... More disturbing to a waiting room full of people: lady in button-fly jeans or lady in her PJ's? Hmm.... Either way, the whole thing left me wondering if I'd missed some cultural event regarding button-flys & women. Do they appear in Playboy regularly or something?

I can empathize with Anon 1:45. At one of my annual exams, I was gazing at the sky through the clear skylights above the stirrups when a roofing guy appeared. Due to sight lines, he probably didn't see much, but I tensed up enough to make my doc say, "Whoa!"

Welcome to my whining!

This blog is entirely for entertainment purposes. All posts about patients may be fictional, or be my experience, or were submitted by a reader, or any combination of the above. Factual statements may or may not be accurate.

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